


Dispelled

by Nibby (Schach)



Series: Fresh Beginning [2]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-02
Updated: 2012-11-02
Packaged: 2017-11-17 14:11:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/552416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schach/pseuds/Nibby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The next part to Vital Signs. What more can I say? You should probably read that one first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dispelled

**Author's Note:**

> So this isn't that long of a chapter, but I didn't want to overload. It'll probably be a lot more emotional next bit.

They drove in silence for a while, no sound between them but the steady swish of the windshield wipers and the monotonous sound of the ancient engine purring through the car. Charles kept his eyes off of the stranger, staring determinedly out the window, a slight panic beginning to gnaw at his insides as he thought of the things he would have to say, the reasons he would have to give to make his suicide attempt seem logical.

“Are you cold, Charles?” the man asked, glancing over at him during a red light. He’d been so occupied thinking of warranted explanations that he hadn’t noticed the chill seeping into his bones, his hands shaking, lip quivering.

“A little bit,” he shook out, trying to make it all stop, “My clothes are all wet.”

The man frowned, seemingly changing his mind, and abruptly did a U-turn, speeding off in the opposite direction, while explaining, “I’m sorry, my heater doesn’t work. I meant to get it repaired last week, what with winter coming on, but other things came up and I was short on cash.”

Charles tried for a smile, saying quietly, “Aren’t we all a little short on something.”

A small nod in addition to a half hidden worried look were the only response he got from the man, but he was thankful for it all the same. He wasn’t prepared for the inevitable questions that would be asked later. No, for now the silence would do well enough so he went back to staring out of his window.

“Here,” the man huffed suddenly, struggling to get out of his coat at a red light, before tenderly reaching over and handing it to the younger boy, who naturally tried to protest.

“Oh no, I couldn’t,” Charles declined, trying to push the coat back into the other’s hand. He couldn’t wear such a nice coat and be so wet, he’d ruin it and he couldn’t afford to pay it back. It was a kindness he didn’t know how to accept anymore, it had been so long since someone had done something so selfless for him.

“I’d ruin it,” he whispered, and they both heard the unspoken words. He’d ruin it like he’d ruined everything else.  Everything would wilt and fade to nothing in his careful hands.

“Charles, please,” the man insisted, dropping the coat between them, “I don’t want you to get pneumonia. And don’t worry about messing it up, I have others, it’s only a coat.”

Charles nodded mutely, pulling the bit of clothing securely around his body, immediately lost in the warmth and smell of it. It was stupid, he knew, it was only a coat and nothing more but it felt like home. It felt like the hugs his father used to give him, big and cozy and loving. It felt like it could belong to someone who cared for him, who wouldn’t hit him or verbally shame him. It was a reminder of all he’d lost and could never regain. Memories, recollections and nothing more. Dust.

He’d opened his mouth to say the most heartfelt thank you he could manage when they finally pulled up to a curb and the car was turned off, the man not waiting  a moment before jumping out of the car and heading to Charles’ side to cover him with the umbrella.

Charles managed a small smile, stepping out of the car with the man’s hand for assistance. He looked regretfully down at the soaked seat, frowning and apologizing with a, “I’m so sorry I got your seat wet, Sir.”

The man chuckled, shaking his head as he motioned for Charles to follow him, “Charles, the last thing on my mind right now is the condition of the seats in my crappy car. And please, call me Erik.”

“Erik,” Charles repeated quietly to himself, waiting just behind Erik on the step as he dug through a million keys and unlocked the door, motioning Charles in first. Erik was the name of his savior.

Inside the door was a narrow hallway where Charles stood nervously, watching as Erik moved deeper into the dark, flipping on lights here and there to reveal that the huge house on the outside was really divided into really small individual apartments.  The hall way lead to an open space with the kitchen on the right, the living room/den/office (or so Charles assumed with the sheer amount of books and gaming equipment and the like) with another tiny hallway at the end displaying three closed off doors.

“Sorry,” Erik apologized, disappearing into one of the rooms, talking a bit louder than necessary so that he could still be heard, “I was going to take you to a dinner or something, but you can’t be in those wet clothes much longer. So hopefully I’ve got a decent tea brand in my cupboard.”

He looked surprised when he reentered the room to find Charles standing in the exact same spot.

“Don’t be frightened, Charles. It will all be okay I promise,” Erik soothed. He sounded so sure, so full of conviction that Charles couldn’t help but to think that maybe, just maybe he was right.

“Thank you, Erik,” was out of his mouth before he could think, a hopeful sounding thank  you as if Charles was thanking him not only for what he’d done, but what he would do.

Erik looked at him quizzically for a moment before handing him his smallest pair of pajama pants and t shirt that he had dug out of his closet, “It’s no problem, none at all, I’m happy to help. Now first door on the right down the hall, hurry, shower and change while I boil some water. Towels are in the bathroom closet.”


End file.
